


Teenage Nuclear Reactor God

by dualaqua



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, frank is 19 and quentin is 18, mostly fluff and angst, pedophilia mention tw, slow burn while falling in love, the legion are supportive shits of their extremely repressed leader, this is with 2010 NOEM quentin so freddy is canonically a pedo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dualaqua/pseuds/dualaqua
Summary: Quentin would do anything to keep Freddy Krueger from hurting anyone else- even if it means sacrificing himself to the Entity, keeping each of them trapped in the fog forever. When Quentin gets his wish, he becomes immediately wrapped up in the attention of another killer in the fog, and Frank Morrison isn't the type you say no to.
Relationships: Frank Morrison/Quentin Smith, Morrismith - Relationship
Comments: 51
Kudos: 180





	1. Reality Over

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not taking this one excessively seriously, more of a, I'm chilling tf out and putting down some cute stuff I've been thinking of for awhile. Hoping to update like three times a month but really, who the fuck actually knows, ya know? Fuck it

_ Quentin turns on his heel in a swift motion to avoid the scissored claws of Freddy Krueger slashing against his front- the narrow escape of his own bowels leaking out of his stomach with split second decision making. He's panting as he runs, out of breath as his body aches from running. He wonders how long he had been running now- minutes, hours, years? Dreams are like that. All that matters is that he keeps running, and wakes up eventually. His body needs the rest so he can start over, reset his schedule of staying awake for days straight until he faces off against the Nightmare once more. It never changes. _

_ Another missed slash at his back takes him out of his thoughts and he focuses more in the moment, even if avoiding lit furnaces and scalding hot pipes were second nature to him now. Kreuger is laughing behind him, enjoying the chase. Quentin wants to scream in frustration, in anger- to turn around, run straight into the Nightmare and hold him down, no matter how much he stabs into Quentin. _

_ The soft song of children echoes through the steaming pipes, the trapped souls of his friends being kept as children in his hellscape. The anger grows; flaring up inside of him. In that moment, Quentin stops running, and turns around to face his oppressor. _

_ Then he runs straight for the dream demon. _

* * *

Quentin opens his eyes to snow gently drifting down onto his face, and the cold covering his entire backside begins to seep into his bones. He blinks up at the dark sky in confusion, and sits up in the snow pile he lay in.

Everything to him was still in a deep haze- what was the last thing that happened to him? He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. The mental imagery of Freddy Krueger comes to mind, running at him and he runs at Freddy. Quentin's eyes snap open, and his hand comes up to his chest.

No torn clothes, no blood. He looks himself over, looking for any more signs of a struggle that may have woken him up out of the dream; yet there was nothing. 

The sound of a machine exploding rings out in the distance, and Quentin is finally torn out of his haze to look around. He appeared to be sitting atop a snow drift, back against a brick wall that spread out as far as he could see. A broken down lodge wasn't too far away from him, surrounded by oddly placed, wooden structures surrounding what appeared to be random, broken down generators. His brows furrow in confusion as he stands, brushing snow off his backside and slowly walking towards the lodge.

The last place he had been before falling asleep was the library, likely on top of a pile of books in search of a way to vanish Freddy. His eyes scan the area around him, looking for the dream demon. He didn't recognize this place, so no doubt he was still asleep and this was another one of Kruegers memories, so he had to stay vigilant. He had no idea how to avoid and run around here, so it would be dangerous until he figured it out.

Again, the sound of a machine blowing up reaches him, and he realizes it was somewhere past the lodge. There's some yelling, and everything goes quiet.

Quentin walks towards the lodge faster, a hiding place in mind as a heartbeat starts thumping in his ears. He stutters in his pace for a moment, confusion engulfing him as he attempts to figure out what the fuck  _ that  _ means. The heartbeats grow louder, pumping harder in his own head as he steps through the lodge doors- and sees another teenager, faced away from him with a knife in hand, scanning the area around him. You gasp, and bolt towards him, grabbing on to his shoulder and turning him around. 

A crudely drawn on mask faces Quentin, before backing up with a start. He starts to raise the knife and the heartbeats are louder than ever, but Quentin ignores them as he grabs on to the jacket of the teen and starts to pull him forward towards the decrepit stairs in the lodge.

"He'll be coming soon- come on, I can show you how to hide, just follow me. I don't want you dying to him," the sleep deprived teen whispers in a rushed tone to the masked one. Quentin is pulling harder now, and the former puts his knife down, swatting Quentin's hand off and following him upstairs. The heartbeats were still thumping loud as the teens move into one of the abandoned bedrooms, crouching down in a corner together. 

Quentin raises a finger to his lips, telling the other to be quiet and still in the quick motion- and within a few more seconds, the heartbeats stop dead in his head.

Quentin sighs in relief, closing his eyes and resting the back of his head against the wall he was sitting up against. He opens his eyes and looks towards the newbie, though he didn't appear to be all that scared about the situation.

"Have you seen Freddy before?" Quentin asks softly.

The masked teen shakes his head no, and Quentin frowns, unsure of how to start explaining, when he looks up to the room around him. His eyes scan the walls covered in different colored graffiti. The names 'Joey', 'Susie', 'Frank', and 'Julie' are spray painted crudely on the peeling paint, along with odd symbols and in bold, capitalized letters, 'THE LEGION' covering the entirety of the wall across from the teens. Quentin huffs a soft laugh at that, the normalcy of the tagging in an old building reminding him that this was once a real place.

The masked teen taps his arm, and tilts his head to the side. He doesn't say anything, but Quentin understands the message:  _ 'what are you laughing at?' _ .

"That this was once a real place before that dream demon twisted it up as a place to torture in this dream. Normal teens were here- he probably killed them too, though."

It was now the masked teens turn to let out a soft huff of a laugh, shaking his head no. He points at the name 'Frank', than at himself. Quentin's eyebrows raise.

"Oh, so you're still alive. I'm sorry about your friends…," he pauses and looks away before continuing, "he uh, he killed all of mine too. And more people- people I knew as a kid. Maybe he worked here before he worked at my preschool before, uh, ya know."

Frank shakes his head again, gesturing the other names on the wall with a thumbs up, before reaching over and patting Quentin's shoulder sympathetically. Quentin smiles at his new masked friend.

"You're all good at dodging him in the dreams, then. Not sure if the make is what helps, but I'd do anything for a weapon while running Freddy around," Quentin's eyes move to the blade now lying at Frank's side on the floor. He stares forward now, his eyes unfocused as he speaks, reciting Freddy's methods and torture like a broken record player- to those he spoke to before their demise.

"But, it also means you haven't found out what happens if he  _ does  _ get to you in the dreams. If he hurts you while you're asleep- in this dream- he hurts you in real life. If he kills you in the dream, he kills you in real life, and you're trapped in his realm forever."

Quentin pauses as guilt draws over his face.

"Really the only reason I'm alive is 'cause he got to other people first. It gave me time to figure out what to do once he came for me. I've been fighting him for  _ months _ now, looking for any possible way to finally kill him. I was in another dream before this- last thing I remember is getting so fucking angry, and…" Quentin shakes his head while looking down at his lap, voice going softer.

"And I woke up here. I've never seen this place in my life, which means it was somewhere only  _ he's _ been. Probably somewhere else with kids that he-" Quentin stops abruptly, eyes going wide before looking up at Frank.

Quentin realizes that Frank has been leaning forward a bit now, listening intently as he rambles on.

Quentin looks at the mask with sympathetic eyes now, before murmuring, "Just, um- Just don't let him hurt you, no matter what. I don't know how long I'll be here, or when I'll wake up again, but this is a good time for your real body to be getting rest as he hunts for you. Then you can focus on staying awake for days, again, like I do. I'm sure you do, anyhow..."

Quentin looks down again, now out of anything else to say. He's about to start pinching himself awake, when Frank finally speaks next to him.

"I've never actually heard of this 'Freddy' dude, or seen him. And this?", his hands make a vague gesture outwards around him as Quentin's head snaps back up, "This ain't what you think it is."

The sleepless teen stares at Frank now, trying to make out the eyes in the slits of the mask. He could feel Frank's stare boring into him, holding him in place while continuing to speak.

"This place isn't the kind of nightmare you're used to- even if it  _ is _ a nightmare- and there's no waking up from it. Even death isn't an escape."

As Quentin starts to open his mouth to ask what Frank means, a bandaged finger is placed on his lips to shush him. A soft blush spreads on Quentin's cheeks from the sudden contact as his eyes nearly cross looking down at the finger, then back up to Frank.

"Listen, I'll let the other twerps explain  _ how _ to survive to you, though. Doesn't really seem like my place to."

He lets out a chuckle at the end, smile clear in the tone as he's amused by his own inside joke. Frank pulls his hand back and sets it back in his lap, allowing Quentin to speak now.

"So Krueger… Isn't going to try and kill me anymore?," Quentin asks slowly, trying to figure out what Frank means.

"Didn't say that," Frank quips, now pulling a cigarette and lighter out of the front pocket of his leather jacket.

He tips the mask up, revealing his mouth and a deep scar running vertically up his lips on the side, cutting into the soft pink with a jagged, pale line. Quentin finally notices a large, rather poorly done tattoo on Frank's neck, covering from the base of his throat to wear it cuts off under his stubbly jawline.

Frank places the stick between his lips and lights the end, taking a long drag before blowing it out in Quentin's face. "It's not nice to eye people down when they can see you doing it, you know."

Quentin coughs, waving his hand in front of his to clear away the smoke and hide the forming red in his face from embarrassment. He's about to protest Frank's statement when an alarm sounds out, moving his attention to the open window.

"What the fuck was that?" He asks, panic leaking a bit into his voice.

" _ That _ is something you're going to get used to after a while," Frank replies with his cigarette still placed between his lips, smoke rising into the air and filling the small space between them both as he continues looking at Quentin.

It's only then Quentin realizes they never moved apart after he moved them both into the corner together to hide.

"I like you, Quentin." Frank says suddenly, snapping Quentin out of his realization.

"I like your attitude, your will to survive through nasty shit- the way you're willing to run up to a man with a knife in his hand and pull said knife wielding maniac  _ away  _ from an unseen danger without a second thought on whether  _ he's  _ the danger, since you're so focused on keeping people alive. Most would just hide, let others die in their place. But you? You feel guilty knowing those who died before you, you make up for it by fighting. 

"So take this as a freebie, and go find a big ass door to run out of. I'm sure there's some other little shits waiting down there for you. It'll all make sense soon enough."

Quentin's head is spinning in confusion now as he stares at Franks cold, grinning mask, practically whip-lashed by the statement  _ 'a knife wielding maniac'. _

He's given no time to wrap his head around Frank possibly being the real danger before he's being roughly hauled up by the back of his jacket and pushed out of the room. The heartbeats return now, pounding in his head and making his heart race.

"Seriously, leave before I fucking stab you. I won't give you another chance like this." Frank threatens from behind. 

Quentin nods without turning around, confusion and fear mixing in him as he bolts down the stairs of the dilapidated resort and back out into the snow. His body is running on adrenaline now as he tries faster and faster to get away from the heartbeats, and the farther he gets from the resort, the softer they become. 

Quentin finally takes in his surroundings, noticing the ground covered in what appeared to be glowing, red cracks. It seemed like the siren was now blaring some kind of countdown- with every beat it progressively gets faster.  He follows the brick wall surrounding the perimeter of the snowy grounds, anxiously looking for 'a big ass door', when a hand lands on his shoulder and whirls him around.

A girl with cropped, black hair, and a flannel faces him. Quentin notices panic is void in her eyes and filled only with a stern concern. "Follow me, we need to leave  _ now _ . There isn't a lot of time left."

Quentin nods and follows her as she turns around and starts sprinting back from where he came, but now behind a hill he had forgotten to walk around in his initial panic. A large door frames a short walkway out to what appeared a dark, misty field, holding two other figures in its threshold. 

A plain faced man with messy, dark hair and a toolbox in hand waves Quentin and the girl with cropped black hair forward, standing next to a woman in a track outfit with long braids. The woman in the track outfit reaches out and grabs Quentin's hand, hastily pulling him through to the misty field.


	2. Contemplation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to put at the end of last chapter that Frank is running insidious, which is why the heartbeats went away when he sat down with Quentin. Also, don't you just love to set up and make way more internal dialogue then what's necessary? Me too. Here's 2300 words of Quentin being an awkward, gay little fuck thinking about his terrible crush

The light from the fire in front of Quentin was nearly blinding- but probably only because he kept spacing out and staring straight into it.

Trials. Killers. The Entity. Sacrifices. Generators. Totems. Looping. Special abilities. Special equipment. Offerings. Realms. Death after death after death. He felt like his head was going to explode trying to process it all.

It had been the equivalent of a few days since Quentin had entered what was called 'the fog'. He couldn't entirely be sure of the time period, since there were no sunsets or clocks, but it felt right to call it a few days. The others around the campfire- they called themselves 'survivors'- said they long stopped bothering to keep track of time. How he, too, will eventually stop caring to try and count. He finds out that some of them even come from different time periods, though those who may arrive later could be from twenty years earlier.

Quentin had a couple of trials now since his arrival, spending each of them confused and doing his best to work on generators- even when heartbeats of the killer pounded in his head as someone ran them around nearby. He escaped each though, at that demise of at least one of his teammates as they carried him through, teaching him while surviving. One woman, Laurie, noted he had a knack for opening the doors faster than anyone else. That it was 'one of his abilities', and a very useful one at that.

The swell of pride in the comment was almost enough to make him forget he was bleeding out while opening the door for the both of them.

He had faced against the Wraith, and the Trapper. While each killer and their abilities had been explained to him in crucial detail, the only one he could mostly focus on was the others speaking of the newest killer in the fog; the Nightmare.

Quentin hadn't seen him yet, but others had a trial with him. Once they described what he looked like, how Freddy could hurt them, there was no mistaking that Krueger had also joined him in this depressing fog. If Quentin could be prepped for anything, it would be facing the dream demon- especially outside of Krueger's dreamscape in what was Quentin's former life.

To know he was here now, and could never permanently kill anyone again, left a sadistic, warm sense of satisfaction in Quentin's chest. That the teen had won, that Krueger could never  _ truly _ kill anyone else.

For a short period he had wondered if it was his own doing, from when he ran to attack Freddy in his very last dream against him. It only amplified the warm feeling in his chest to know that  _ he  _ had trapped  _ Freddy _ . The others said this place is an eternal prison, and Quentin could only hope that it was true.

Though, admittedly, he had not told the others this. He hadn't told them anything of his past life, not wanting to have to recite everything that monster had done to him- to his friends- to these people Quentin had never met before. 

There was a small voice in the back of his head urging him to speak to everyone, to confess since he was now expected to be a team. That he should be making friends to make however long he'll be trapped here more bearable; but he continues to shove it back down. Quentin still wanted to be a part of a team, and make sure everyone survived, but not at the cost of making himself known. Rather, he wanted to blend into the background, and avoid friendships that would only hurt him more in the end to see them die- just like it was before.

His father would say it was depression. That his self-proclaimed isolation would only hurt him more in the end, but he didn't go through what Quentin went through. His father wouldn't understand seeing the people he loved die right in front of him, and feeling that heartache again and again like he's going to now. Quentin remains absolute that it's the best course of action to survive in the fog, and keep Freddy trapped here forever. He couldn't help but notice others mist feel the same way, based on how many other loners there were.

Two of these loners being Jake, and Nea; they were the others in his first trial with him, along with Meg. After the trial and all of the explanations of what this place was, and what he needed to do, they expressed the confusion of what happened during that trial. 

They said it was excessively uncommon to see a killer, have them attack, and then disappear for the rest of the time being. But it does happen from time to time. Whether it's because they don't feel like it, or- according to whispers Quentin has already heard around the campfire- they're sleeping with a survivor, it  _ can  _ happen.

It was harder for Quentin to keep withdrawn when asked by Nea if he had seen the killer and what he did all trial. He hadn't been there long, but it was long enough to know what happened was out of the ordinary, and would only put him in the spotlight. The lie came quick and easy, years of practice from making his overprotective father back off from a situation, saying he hadn't seen them at all; that he had hid upstairs in the lodge the entire time until the sound of the exit gate opening drew him out of hiding. She simply nodded her head and said 'alright' to this before walking away, yet he couldn't help but hear the suspicion in her tone.

A crackling pop of the flames aimed directly in his face snaps Quentin out of his reverie, only to realize someone had been sitting next to him on the ground for some time. It was the petite, asian woman who hadn't bothered speaking to him yet. He had seen her around the campfire a couple of times, but she mainly stayed to her own group. Quentin's mind starts racing as he attempts to try and remember her name, but only keeps pulling blanks.

She speaks after a few moments of him awkwardly staring at her, not bothering to look up from where she was running her fingers through the dead grass. "You seem to be handling this better than most do when they arrive in the fog."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Quentin's stomach drops as yet another survivor speaks to him with suspicion in their tone. He awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his head under his beanie and looking away from her.

"Yeah, I uh… I've had experience before this trying not to be killed." There is a drawn out pause as she takes this in.

She's looking up at him now, interest piqued at his words. "You were a gamer, too?"

Your mouth twists up into a half-hearted smile, the innocence of the suggestion making you feel guilty it wasn't true.

"Not… Exactly. I mean yeah, I did play  _ some _ games. I think 'Call of Duty' is my favorite."

"Which one?"

Quentin stops for a moment as she asks this, confused. "The… Only one? 'Black Ops'?"

She makes a disgruntled face, and crosses her arms with a huff, turning away again. It's an awkward few moments before Quentin tries to speak again.

"I, uh, I didn't mean to upset you, but I'm sor-"

She abruptly cuts his apology off by speaking.  "I just thought I got lucky enough to talk to someone about video games from when  _ I'm _ from. In 2017." 

"Oh! Oh, no, it was 2010 the last I remember." Quentin replies, relief already filling him up that her attitude had nothing to do with something he had said. She doesn't reply anymore, nodding curtly and goes back to running her fingers through the grass. It's about the same length of any conversation here with anyone else he's had so far that didn't involve how to survive.

So just like that, Quentin's back to his thoughts, though now they turn in a bit of a different direction. One he's been doing his best to avoid.

Why did Frank just talk to him, then let him go?

Why wasn't he stabbed the moment he grabbed on to the front of Frank's jacket, pulling him to safety when he was the killer? He couldn't have gained anything out of it more than a conversation, though it's obvious he has better priorities than talking to some insomniac's ramblings. It was his job to put people up on hooks, cut them down with his blade and make them bleed. Could he honestly be that lonely?

Quentin thinks back to what the others told him about Frank- how he was called 'the Legion', since there were four of them. Loneliness wasn't it, then. In fact, Frank may be one of the un-loneliest killers in the entire fog. 

The imagery of Frank casually lighting a cigarette next to him floods Quentin's mind, despite his effort to hold that part back. The curve of his lips, his scar, his tattoo. The sharp edge of his jawline, the way his rough, calloused hands held the lighter. The smell of smoke in the air, how his lips probably tasted the same way...

Quentin shakes his head, trying to clear the thoughts out of his head and the heavy blush off of his face. He needed to have some fucking shame, the guy was a murder for christs sake! Hanging innocent people up on meat hooks for a living in the equivalent of what could be considered Hell.

Quentin wasn't sure he's ever been this mad at himself for being gay.

He had always known it, it wasn't exactly a secret. His timid nature around his male peers had always been chalked up to shyness, no one ever considering the fact he just didn't know how to cope with being attracted to half of the jocks in his school. It was around sophomore year he finally admitted and accepted it in himself- though he never told anyone else. That was his business, and his business alone. 

It had been awhile since Quentin even thought about his sexuality, being far too pre-occupied with not dying to a pedophile. Too busy trying to save his best friend, Nancy, and too busy staying awake on top of piles of books. But now? He was stuck in a place where he was either fighting for his life on the clock, or spending days spacing out, looking at a campfire. It was leaving too much room for him to  _ not _ think about Frank.

Of course, if the rumors were true, it wasn't exactly… Frowned upon, to sleep with a killer. Just kept hush hush, and maybe judged by a few from afar. Quentin had noticed some of the survivors were in relationships, too, meaning it wasn't something their all holy spider god doesn't allow. 

Quentin places his hand under his chin, allowing himself to think about Frank's actions again. The way he leaned forward with interest as Quentin spoke, the way he blew smoke in Quentin's face in the most flirtatious way he had ever seen.  How Frank didn't mind Quentin looking him up and down, only saying it was rude since Frank could see him doing it. Meaning… he wanted Quentin to do it again when he  _ wasn _ 't looking, probably? 

Quentin huffs in confusion and frustration, now turning his attention to the tree line, a dark mist swirling around its edges on the ground. He had already seen people go in there for walks and alone time, maybe he should do the same to try and clear his head about this. As he stands and starts walking for the forest, though, he's stopped by a gloved hand on his shoulder. Quentin turns around to face Jake.

"Oh, um… Hi?" It ends up coming out as a question. He cringes internally at his own awkwardness.

"Hi. What are you doing." Jake responds flatly, now removing his hand from Quentin's shoulder and crossing his arms across his chest. His demeanor was stern.

"Going for a walk?" Quentin responds with a half-hearted smile, his voice cracking when he says 'walk'. Jake just stares.

"You know there's killers in those woods, right? Free roaming and excited to take that bloodlust of theirs out on anyone they come across?"

Quentin's mouth opens but nothing comes out, before abruptly snapping it closed again and looking away a soft blush covers his entire face in embarrassment. "I- uh- I've seen others do it so I thought-"

"The others who do it, like myself, are essentially veterans here. We do it to scavenge for supplies because we know how to handle ourselves out there if we come across unwanted company. However," he pauses now, taking in the fact that Quentin looks like a deer caught in the headlights during his scolding. "I also can't stop you if you want to go out there, since I know the worst that happens is you're killed and you come straight back here, and you have your own free will. All I can do is tell you that it really isn't that good of an idea."

Quentin isn't sure what to say again, but this time he keeps his mouth completely shut, simply nodding in response. Jake nods back, and walks back to where he was sitting next to Claudette. She makes eye contact with Quentin, a sweet smile spreading on her face as she twinkles her fingers 'hello' at him. Jake just glowers at the fire, and Quentin gulps, waving back at Claudette.

He thinks getting caught by a random killer is much better than sticking around for the alarming range of attitudes here- especially now that he knows he can run into Frank in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmu i'm bloodhexx on tumblr and I refuse to proof read anything, i'm just banging this shit out


	3. We Are Legion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for my late update- a lot has happened to me in this last month! I want to try and finish this story next month with a bunch of frequent updates but I'm also moving so... We'll see how that goes. Non-beta read per usual, btw. Your comments are heavily appreciated and what keep me going on this piece 😅

The forest is an unnatural space- more so then around the campfire or in a trial. Quentin absent mindedly crosses and rubs his arms, despite the lack of chill in the air.

It unnerved him that it always felt like the perfect temperature, and how the fog lacks weather entirely unless you're in a killers realm. He thinks back to ormond's snowy resort as he stumbles aimlessly through the trees, and how the scenery made it easier to imagine being cold. 

He closes his eyes for a moment, and visualizes the crunch of dead leaves under foot turning to the crunch of fresh snow; the inky blackness surrounding him lighting up bright white.

When Quentin opens his eyes, he notices a light frost covering the trees, and a small spot of light far ahead of him.

Quentin narrows his eyes, and continues walking cautiously. He breaks through a clearing filled with snow, and comes face-to-face with where it all started: Ormonds resort.

His eyes stay squinted as the harsh, right white reflects into his eyes, a satisfactory smile twitching on his lips in finding just what he hoped for. The Entity truly wasn't  _ always _ a cruel mistress.

Quentin keeps shuffling and plowing through mounds of snow towards the resort, doing his best to keep a careful eye out for unwanted visitors. He had never met the other three legion, and there was no telling if they would be as friendly as Frank.

As he gets closer, Quentin notices the resort looks different. Almost perfectly well restored, with actual windows and doors. Smoke plumes out of a pipe at the top, revealing someone had a fire lit inside the fire pit. As he nears what appears to be a side door, a voice speaks to him.

"Are you Quentin?"

Quentin jumps so hard he falls back into the snow, his head whipping back and forth to find the source of the voice. Finally, he peers up into a tree next to the entrance, and sees a pink haired girl with a mask held together by wire- one of the legion.

"Uh… Y-yeah? Yes." He fumbles out, standing up now and brushing frost off of his clothes. She seemed at peace on her branch, swinging her legs carefree, even if she was nearly seven feet off of the ground and buried in the thick of sharp pine needles.

"Cool." She states flatly, prompting no more from the confused insomniac below. It's a few more seconds of awkward silence before Quentin asks, "how do you know my name?"

Her responding laugh is a quick snort, only making the blush in his cheeks deepen in embarrassment. 

"Frank told us 'bout you, after that trial you two had together. Wouldn't stop talking about you for daaaaays," she draws out at the end while rolling her eyes.

Quentin's face was as red as a tomato by this point, and he looks down to try and hide it.

"Is, um, is Frank here?"

"Nah, he's in a trial. But if you stick around long enough, you'll see him. He's bound to be back in a few minutes now- trials never last long for him." She responds in a relaxed tone.

Quentin ignores the pointed fact of how proficient Frank is at his 'job', and opts for a silent nod before calling up, "What's your name?".

"Susie. The other legion- Julie and Joey- they're inside if you want to go sit by the fire."

Quentin's a bit startled by the invitation.

"Would they even be… Okay with that?" He asks.

She makes a thoughtful humming noise, before doing one huge leg swing and jumping down to the ground in front of Quentin. He gasps and backs up as snow flies up, blurring his vision for a moment until Susie is back in view in front of him, absolutely fine. 

"I  _ think _ so, but I could be wrong. Either way they won't hurt you, at most they can just be mean to you."

"Why... Won't they hurt me?"

"'Cause Frank told 'em not to.  _ Duh _ . Otherwise you would've been dead the second you were on our turf without an invite."

She rolls her eyes as she says the last comment, as if it should be painfully obvious to Quentin and he's slow enough to have not already figured it out.

Quentin gulps at the threat, no matter how empty it was, muttering a soft "thanks I guess".

"C'mon," she announces, taking Quentin by the hand and leading him inside.

Quentin almost fully regrets it, but by the time he's inside of the resort it all washes away. It was beautiful- or as close to beauty comes in the fog.

A spotless check-in booth was to the far end of the room. The smell of freshly cut oak and pine hangs in the air like a brand new log cabin, with smoky undertones from the luxurious fire pit. Said fire pit was lit, and surrounded by the remaining two legion that Quentin had yet to meet: Joey and Julie.

Their conversation abruptly comes to a halt as he enters the room, cautious and guarded eyes looking him up and down like he was fresh meat. Quentin's heart nearly drops into his stomach.

Susie, however, was perfectly chirpy.

"Guys! Frank's boyfriend came by!"

"Ooooh," Julie let's out in a low tone as Quentin nearly chokes on his own spit at the comment.

"No! I mean- I barely know him, I just thought-"

"-that you would come and give your boyfriend a quickie?" Joey finishes in a smug tone.

They were toying with him, on the borderline of bullying- Quentin realized that. On one hand, he could go along with it to tear down their strategy in getting to him- and possibly be stabbed. On the other, he could let them pick on him and just deal with it... And again possibly be stabbed. So Quentin opts for the middle ground.

He purses his lips in silence while giving them the finger.

Julie throws her head back in laughter to that, Joey's smug smile becoming an amused one.

"Don't let them get under your skin, Quentin" Susie says, and as Quentin is about to thank her, she finishes with, "I know it must've been hard not seeing your boyfriend for so long."

How Quentin could feel so betrayed by a girl he just met, he will never know. But that stung coming from the short, pastel haired girl beside him.

"Okay okay, we're done fuckin' around with ya, come sit over here," Julie says, patting the seat next to her.

Quentin obliged, following Susie in step into the conversation pit around the flames. He's barely sat down before the questions begin.

"What's it like being a survivor? We've never had any actually come here." Joey prompts.

Quentin bites the inside of his cheek for a moment, wanting to go with the clear answer of 'a fucking nightmare because of killers like you'. But he knows they're trapped here against their will, just like him. So he opts for the plainer version.

"It's… Hard. Hard just waiting around to be killed by the entity, it's stressful staying alive during trials. It's even stressful  _ between _ trials with how the other survivors are with one another... I haven't been here that long, but it's been long enough to know I don't mix well with them. I didn't fit in when I was in the real world, and I don't fit in here. It's tiring having my guts ripped out everyday but I guess, in a way, easier than real life? Here I only have to focus on staying alive and, well, the real world was so much more complex to do that. So I guess it's… it's good? Good and hard, to be a survivor."

Quentin realizes Joey must have expected a quick and short answer; he finds him staring at Quentin intently, the same way Frank had before when talking about Freddy. It's a few moments of silence before Julie says, "...Wow. I mean, actually  _ wow _ dude. And I thought  _ we  _ had it hard, being forced to kill people like, everyday."

Quentin sees Susie and Joey, nodding in agreement to Julie's words.

This became a therapy session a lot faster than Quentin felt comfortable with.

He awkwardly laughs, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, but, like… We're all going through this, you know? I'm sure you guys have it just as hard, being forced to kill people."

Julie hums in agreement, and Susie speaks.

"I mean, yeah it fucking sucks to have to kill people all the time. The entity makes it easier by like, filling us with bloodlust and our feral frenzy every match, but when you come down after the trial is done…" she trails off.

"It kinda rips you open to realize how much pain you've inflicted." Joey finishes in a deep murmur; his eyes were unfocused and glazed over as he stares down, arms crossed, as if lost deep in thought.

It's silent for a few moments, and as Susie starts to speak again, the side door bursts open as Frank stomps in triumphantly.

"Perfect game. Make sure to thank me since now we won't have a trial for awhile," he announces loudly, finally turning to where Quentin sits on the cushions around the fire.

Frank's mask was still on, but Quentin could swear he paled underneath it by the way his body freezes and tightens up. A confused, half hearted chuckle erupts from under the mask as he looks around the room. Quentin fidgets in his seat.

"Ah… Who wants to explain this one?"

"Nothin' to explain, we were just leaving for Amanda's," Julie states as she and Joey stand up in unison. Susie looks excessively confused for a moment, until a look of understanding dawn's on her face and she gets up as well, following the pair out the door.

"Wait why are you…" Frank trails off as he turns around, watching them retreat to the cold.

The door slams shut, and Frank and Quentin are left in tense silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Hmu I'm bloodhexx on tumblr


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